A True Conquest
by SkyraPublishing
Summary: Archenland is at war. Princess Rosalie and her brother are sent to Narnia for safety, but will she find love along the way? Elni finds her way into Narnia on accident, and stumbles upon a family secret. Will their friendship survive the ultimate test?


I stared across Archenland's borders, my partner, Meren, glanced in my direction. We both had the same, short cut hair that all Archenland's guards shared.

"Elni!" She cried. "What is that on the border?" I held my hand across my forehead, shielding my eyes from the glare of sunset.

"Another storm!" I called as the dark cloud expanded over the horizon. We were lucky we caught it before it was too dark to see correctly. "Go tell Cal we'll need to cancel the outside banquet for this evening." The nobles' outing would be ruined, it seemed. Even if the cloud blew over, there was the chance of a stray lightening bolt hitting Anvard.

From the castle's walls you could see all over the kingdom. I helped Meren cover up anything important with an oilcloth, while studying the view. Then, our shift was over.

* * *

I relaxed in my room, washing my face of dirt. The wind had come before the storm, so dirt had blown onto my face. With our Archenland soil came the sands of Calormen, blown over from the harsh land to the south. The reason Anvard needed guards at all.

I glanced up, into the polished metal looking-glass. In the brassy reflection, my skin looked red, and blended together You couldn't tell I was tanned from hours in the sun, nor that I had a long, thin scar across my forehead down to my jaw, along the side of my face.

I turned from the sight, back to my room. My legs were stiff from standing so long. I should have gone to sleep. But I didn't. I stretched out across the bed and strained my ears, trying to hear the music from the nobles' revelry that had continued, despite the approaching storm. At least Cal, the castle steward, had made sure they wouldn't set foot out doors.

After realizing I would never hear anything I got up and slipped my shoes back on. Guards were free to do what they wanted to do in their free time, and if you were smart, you used it to sleep, eat and take a bath. I wasn't smart, though, and I loved music.

Female guards, like Meren and I, wore an armored dress with slits, and armored leggings underneath. Archenland's colors were on a tunic that all guardsmen wore on top of their armor. Because I didn't want the hassle of my normal outfit, I pulled a skirt on over my shift, slipping the red and yellow tunic on top.

As I exited the guards' quarters, I caught faint sounds of a harp playing. Rain splattered on my face as I crossed the courtyard. Suddenly, a bolt of lightening from the storm lit up the sky. I stared as the horses spooked and broke down the fence. Then there was a great sound, as their hooves struck the ground in a stampede.

I remember watching them charge towards me, towards freedom. I was shoved by one and knocked to the ground, and for one frightening moment his hooves were mere inches from my face. I rolled away and struggled to stand up, ignoring the pain in my side. From the corner of my eye I saw the gate, open with its tenders too struck and scared to do anything. These horses were wild. They were also headed for the gate, with no one to stop them.

I remember grabbing onto a horse and pulling myself onto his side. I remember thinking that this was my first time riding bareback. I remember the rain stinging into my cheeks, the lightening and thunder spooking the horses and driving them onwards. The forests and rocks of Archenland. The biting wind. I remember holding on till my arms ached, then my back, and then my entire body. I remember hanging on till I was numb with cold and pain, and still hanging on. I remember my hair in my mouth, the wild neighs of the horses, the mountains. I remember falling asleep, and waking up with a jolt. I remember the stars, evading us, as the dark cloud matched our speed and the storm chased us.

I remember falling. I remember searing pain. And then I remember nothing else.

* * *

Before I was a guard, I was the daughter of a merchant. I had been to Calormen. I had seen sights most would never see in their lifetime. I had met a Marsh-wiggle. I could tell from a man's speech where he came from.

My father. Dellin, and my uncle, Del, worked together. Uncle Del was a captain of a trade ship, and father was a merchant. Together they worked out a very profitable business, until Uncle Del's ship was attacked by pirates. He died defending his crew, but the ship was lost at sea with only two of the crew managing to survive. My father died only a year after, his business in ruins, of an illness. My mother had died in childbirth years ago, and I, at 15 years, was left alone. I entered the training academy, where I met Meren, my best friend. We trained together, the only girls in the entire academy. She was an orphan like me, and provided a listening ear for when I just needed to cry. I would have never survived that first year if not for her.

* * *

I woke with a start. My face was pressed into warm ground, I was flat on my stomach. Beyond me, the horses were grazing peacefully. I sighed, and tried to get up to dust myself off, when the pain hit me again. It was like nothing else I had ever felt. I gingerly lifted a hand to my forehead, and felt blood. What had happened?

Slowly -so I wouldn't accidentally lapse into unconsciousness- I got up, testing my limits. When I was fully sitting up, I reached down and ripped the hem of my shift, and dabbed my forehead to see where the blood was coming from. When I found the spot, I moved my hair out of the way and tied the strip around my head.

Somehow I managed to make it to my feet. I walked over to the nearest horse, and leaned against it, resting.

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly are you doing?" The horse said. It scared me so badly I fell to the ground, blinking in shock at the horse.

"You-you talk? Your a talking horse, then? I must be in Narnia... or my head is hurt more badly than I thought." I said, touching my head gently and wincing. This could just be a dream. I could have actually gone to bed, and only been dreaming about going outside. But it wasn't like me to dream of outlandish things such as the talking animals of Narnia.

"Yes. I'm a talking horse. You wear the colors of Archenland."

"I'm a guard. Sir Talking-Horse, I-"

"My name is Zenith."

"Zenith. Would you guide me to water, if it's not to much to ask?" The horse gave a wicker of agreement, bobbing it's chestnut-colored head. I stood, shakily but at least I was upright, and placed my arm against his back. He led me to a stream, where I knelt-fell, and untied the bandage. I dipped it in the water, then dabbed my forehead, I then rinsed it out and tied it back around my head.

"Thank you." I turned, but the horse was no longer alone. "Hello." I tired to make my welcome sound as cheerful as I could, but I wasn't all that sure of how much cheer he situation merited. I should have been back in Archenland, but I was who-knows-where in a country to the north.

"Hello." The dwarf returned the greeting. With him was a rather large mouse, and a dog.

"You are all talking animals of Narnia, then?" The mouse gave a nod.

"I'm Elni, guard of Anvard. I came here on a horse, with a stampede of the castle horses. I believe they joined some of the talking horses in breakfast. I would like to bring the horses back, if someone could point me in the direction of Anvard."

"Anvard is south." The dog said.

"Yes, I know, but where?"

"I'm sorry, miss, I don't know. Do you, Thistlebrack?" The mouse spoke, to the dwarf.

"No. Perhaps Dustfleet knows?"

"I'll bet!" The dog threw in his two cents.

"Anyway, why don't you round up the horses from the castle." Zenith suggested.

"Sure. Um..." I suddenly realized the herd had doubled in size. And I didn't recognize more than two horses. "I don't know. There's a lot more than Anvard has. Are the other horses talking horses?"

Zenith shook his head, tossing his dark mane to the side. "No. None except Jhoara."

"And there's no way of telling which are Narnian?" I asked, a shred of hope in my voice.

"No." I sank to the ground at the dwarf's gruff reply.

"What are we going to do?" The dog asked, sitting, like me.

"We could ask Dustfleet?" The mouse suggested.

"He isn't the answer to everything. I doubt even he would know what to do. Maybe we could ask the king?" Zenith said.

"Oh, yes! The king will know what to do! And he'll know where Archenland is!" The dog said, panting in excitement.

"Alright then, I guess we're going to see the king." The dwarf spoke. He tugged on his red beard thoughtfully. "She's in no position to walk all the way there, would you mind, Zenith?"

"Not at all. Up on my back, Archenlander." I climbed up on his back and after asking, the mouse climbed up too. The dwarf set out at a steady walk and the dog kept on running ahead and then back, till it tired itself and was the last of our little party.

Eventually, I found the ache in my head getting worse, and slipped back into unconsciousness. My last thought was that I wished I had payed attention when my father discussed the government of other countries, I had no idea who the king of Narnia was, only that he was a distant relation to our own dear King Herun. I hoped that he was as fair and just as his cousin, king of my homeland.

_I want to go back..._


End file.
